


Finding A New Happily Ever After

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Cinderella (Fairy Tale)
Genre: F/M, Revisionist Fairy Tale, Step-siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 16:25:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cinderella's youngest stepsister wasn't as ugly or awful as the elder. Now it's her turn to find out what she wants in a happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding A New Happily Ever After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anticyclone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticyclone/gifts).



Cinderella had an actual name she had been born with, but Vivienne and Genevieve forgot what it was soon after their mother brought them to live with the girl and her father. He was a merchant in the city, somewhat sickly but kind. Vivienne was younger, and had no memory of her own father. She was overjoyed to call Cinderella's father her Papa, though Genevieve glowered at her and her mother sometimes looked ready to strike her. Papa loved children, and Vivienne knew that Cinderella was the only one of Papa's children to survive. Some died before they were born, some soon after birth. She didn't find it strange for Papa to tell her these things; it was a harsh time for babies and young mothers, and the portrait of Cinderella's mother in the attic showed a fragile-looking girl unable to smile.

Vivienne liked Cinderella, though her mother despised the poor girl. "My daughters are better than any fairy girl's whelp," her mother would say when Papa was at the store and couldn't hear. "My girls are real flesh and blood!"

The girl was small and pale, her hair long and straight, so blonde it looked almost white. She had brown eyes and a small mouth like her mother's portrait hidden in the attic, and she was a soft spoken child. Genevieve was loud and harsh like her mother, dark haired and dark eyed, large in frame and quick to judge. Vivienne's hair wasn't as dark as theirs, and she had vivid blue eyes; she must have taken after her dead father. Her mother had Cinderella clean out the fireplaces and fire pits, while her daughters had easier, cleaner chores in the home. Papa was so mild mannered, he didn't stop to question the disparity.

One winter, it was obvious that Papa was ill and simply growing worse. All the village doctor's medicines didn't help, and he grew weaker by the day. He had his wife promise him that she would care for Cinderella, swearing by all that was holy that she would be safe. Of course she swore it, and Vivienne knew that her mother would never love the girl.

After Papa's death, the distantly frigid demeanor hardened toward Cinderella. She was an heiress, though that was hidden from her. If Vivienne or Genevieve ever revealed the truth, they would be whipped and locked in the basement for a week with only stale bread and water. Years later, Vivienne looked back on those days and cringed. She could have done something to ease the girl's loneliness, could have said more kind words. She didn't taunt her the way Genevieve did, but she didn't stop her sister, either. She didn't give the girl warm sweaters in winter, or make sure that she had enough blankets to keep warm in her attic room. Perhaps the portrait of her dead mother was some kind of comfort, perhaps not. It shamed Vivienne later to think of how cowardly she had been growing up.

When Cinderella was revealed as the Prince's choice from the ball, Vivienne wept with relief. It wasn't her, and her mother could stop forcing her to act as a vivacious girl to trap a man into marriage. Cinderella was free and truly happy now.

Cinderella was revealed as a heiress at last, and her stepmother was imprisoned for fraud and attempted murder, which at once did and did not shock Vivienne. Her mother had never liked Cinderella, after all, and she was a bitter, angry woman. The two sisters were deemed to be victims, and no punishment time in prison or fines were levied. Cinderella didn't throw the girls out of her house, but Genevieve couldn't see that as a blessing, that Cinderella was far more generous than they deserved. She insisted she would have caught the Prince's eye without Cinderella in the way, that it had to be her cursed fairy blood. Genevieve was a terror like their mother in the household, taking her rage out on the remaining servants. Vivienne often escaped her sight by going into the attic or disused portions of the house. Her sister hated to clean, and foisted the task off on her and the servants. Vivienne didn't mind it, as long as it put distance between the two of them.

She talked to Papa's portrait sometimes, and smiled a little at the sad, frail woman he had married first. "She is safe now," Vivienne said to the portrait one day. "Your daughter's a Princess now, safe from my mother. She looked happy at the wedding."

The portrait seemed to sigh, which was rather fanciful on Vivienne's part, and she turned to leave the attic.

In front of her was a woman appearing very much like the dead woman, wearing a gossamer gown, shining gold ringlets. The woman held a slim stick of wood in her hands. "Thank you. We've wondered where she went."

Blinking, Vivienne could only stare. "Oh," she said finally, stunned. "Um… You're welcome."

"Ellanora is my goddaughter," the woman continued with a soft smile. "And her mother was my niece," she said, indicating the portrait.

"Oh. Family. But then couldn't you have cared for her…?"

The woman shook her head. "There are rules to it. Enchantments."

Ah. Perhaps her mother had been right about the fairy blood remarks after all.

"You've tried to show kindness."

"Oh, no. I didn't, not really. Not the way she needed," Vivienne stammered, mortified.

The woman seemed to float forward, and Vivienne's mind shrieked _fairy_ at the sight of the movement. "I would give you a gift in return."

There had to be a trick, a punishment hidden within this gift. Vivienne skittered backward a few steps, the fairy godmother returned to her prior position with a hurt expression. "I don't think I deserve a gift," Vivienne stammered.

Visibly confused, the woman looked at her for a long time. "You truly believe that. My goddaughter doesn't think ill of you, child. And you didn't have to tell us she was safe and happy. That is what I would like to thank you for."

"You're welcome."

Now she frowned. "Is there nothing you want?"

Almost against her will, Vivienne said "I wish I wasn't so afraid all the time. I wish I could have done more. I wish I was different."

Vivienne looked at the fairy godmother's sympathetic expression in horror and slapped her hands over her mouth in fear. What had she done? Had she really said those things aloud? What had gotten into her?

The fairy godmother approached, and touched Vivienne's chest with her wand. "Child, you did what you could. My dear Ellanora understood that. It's not bravery you lack, but an abundance of guilt that you do not deserve to carry."

"But…"

A warmth seemed to suffuse her chest, filling her. Her skin seemed to glow from the inside out. "I promised my niece I would help Ellanora as I could, and I promised Ellanora that you would not be harmed by your sister. Women can be cruel at times, even without thinking to be, even when trying to be kind." She leaned in and kissed Vivienne's forehead. "Making you fearless would change you, and it may not be a gift you truly want. But in taking away your guilt in this, now you can be who you were meant to be."

"Who's that?" she asked. Her voice didn't quite sound like her own, as there was no tremulous undertone to it anymore. Vivienne wasn't afraid this fairy would hurt her or hate her. She didn't think she was awful for hiding in her own home for so long.

Grinning, the fairy shook out her gossamer gown. "I delight in finding out."

***

Vivienne slipped out of her home and went to the palace without telling Genevieve about it. It almost surprised her how easy it was, but Genevieve tended to only notice the obvious lies. She had planned to say that she heading into town to inquire about their mother if she was stopped, but Genevieve paid no attention to her. Before, Genevieve had wanted to bribe their mother's way out of prison or hire mercenaries, but their mother remained imprisoned despite Genevieve's efforts. She had mentioned that Vivienne should go to the prison, as the guards might pity her because of her sad, hopeless demeanor.

It hurt to hear what Genevieve thought of her, but she kept her mouth shut and didn't say where she was going when she left the house. She intended to go to the palace to talk with Cinderella― Ellanora. Her name was Ellanora, and it should be used.

Ellanora greeted her warmly when she was led into the receiving hall. As Princess, she was in a finely wrought gown of exquisite lace and silk, almost resembling her fairy godmother's gossamer gown. "Oh, you look lovely," Vivienne said before she could stop and think if it was appropriate or not. "I'm so glad you're happy here."

"I think there's a way to make sure you're happy, too," Ellanora said after a moment contemplating Vivienne. "Not a Prince, but I don't think you'd enjoy that much."

Vivienne frowned. "Why would you want to help me?"

"Would you rather live with Genevieve?"

Grimacing before she could stop herself, Vivienne shook her head. "No, no. Not if I could leave."

Impulsively reaching out for her stepsister, Ellanora nodded. "We talked a lot when Genevieve wasn't around, do you remember? How you loved to paint, but she thought it was a terrible idea, and your mother said you'd never find a husband that way."

Vivienne sighed. "And I never really learned how…"

"But if you could? With the court painter? Baron Castellis has trained for years and was looking for an apprentice." Ellanora looked at her earnestly. "I'd like to have a sister here at the palace. It can get lonely."

Normally, Vivienne would have blurted out something mortifying like "Why are you being so nice to me?" or "I don't deserve that!" and then wished she could sink into the floor. The lack of guilt meant that she didn't, however, and she smiled warmly at her stepsister. "Are you sure? Your fairy godmother already gave me a gift."

Ellanora smiled widely at that. It completely transformed her face, and Vivienne could see why the Prince had been so enamored with her. "If she did, then you really do belong here. She wouldn't give you a gift if you didn't deserve one. Genevieve can stay in that house alone, then. I don't need it, and I can afford to be generous."

"She'll try to get our mother out of prison."

"She can try," Ellanora replied with a careless shrug. "But if she goes too far, she'll join her mother in there."

That was said matter-of-factly, not with malice. It was a simple truth― if she defied the King's law, Genevieve would be punished. Vivienne sighed, thinking perhaps she should feel worse about that. Did the fairy godmother remove _all_ guilt? She had thought it would only be about her inaction growing up.

Sighing, Vivienne looked Ellanora in the eye. "I should care more about what she does. I should care more about her getting into trouble. But she made fun of me this morning, and I really would like to get to know you better without Mother or Genevieve spoiling it. Is that horrible of me?"

Ellanora smiled warmly at her. "Only if it's horrible of me, too, because I'd like that."

Grinning at each other, they hugged tightly, vowing without words to be sisters in the palace.

***

Baron Castellis was an elderly man with an exquisite eye for portraiture. He had a son that cared nothing for painting and a grandson a little older than Vivienne that cared more for the pageantry and courtliness of being a knight of the realm. He had no other options for an apprentice to train, and didn't bat an eye when Vivienne explained she had never been allowed to paint before. "Bah," he said with a dismissive wave. "No poor habits to untrain, then. Let us begin. We have time to teach you proper procedures. Court physicians have declared me capable of reaching my hundred and twentieth year."

Vivienne grinned, liking him immediately. He gave her exercises in still life and color mixing first, alternating with sketching. That she had been able to do in secret before, so there was at least some rudimentary skill to start with. Time flew by with this training, as well as attending court events with Ellanora. She barely thought of her mother or leaving Genevieve alone in the house she grew up in; once she did, she felt guilty.

Good to know all guilt hadn't been removed.

Her mother screamed at her and called her a useless bit of baggage. "You need to marry someone important to get me out of here. Use that connection to the Princess!"

Vivienne looked at her mother, who had aged terribly over the past year in prison. "Thank you for asking how I am, Mother," she said stiffly, rising from her seat across from the cell. "I have something I'm proud of now." Pushing aside the hurt she felt at her mother's disdainful snort, Vivienne turned to leave. "Goodbye, Mother."

She stopped outside the prison, the sound of her mother's shouts haunting her. Choking back a sob, she struggled to catch her breath, ignoring the looks from the guard. She clenched her fists at her sides, determined not to let her mother's rage beat her down again. Vivienne went to the only place in the palace where she truly felt safe: Baron Castelli's studio.

He didn't ask her what was wrong, the dear man, but simply had her sit beside him to observe his techniques for blending paints to match the shades of still life. "Master this, and we can proceed to life paintings next."

"There's an art to capturing movement," she murmured, looking at the petals of each flower he was painting. "And in your portraits, you see the essence of the subject, as if a glimmer of their soul is in the paint."

"Poetic to think so," he replied as the door to his studio banged open. For a torturous moment, Vivienne felt her old guilt in force; she must have done something during that visit to her mother, said something that put her in a bad light, making Elladora regret trusting her.

But the young man striding into the room had a bright and wide smile on his face, startling green eyes and a shock of dark hair. He had the same nose that Baron Castellis did, though his jaw was softer, more rounded, and he was taller by nearly a foot. He wore the insignia of the King on the tunic he wore over his chain mail, moving as if its weight was no trouble at all. "Grandfather! We've returned from the tourney, and I've placed second! My personal best in the joust this time!" he boomed with pleasure.

"Did you tell your father and mother?" the Baron asked, not even looking up from grinding his pigments into the paint.

"But of course! Father thought I should tell you the good news straightaway."

Vivienne watched the interchange, seeing the way the Baron's grandson lit up as he spoke of the jousting. It was the same expression the Baron got when he discussed shading and perspective. She couldn't help but grin at them both; for all his apparent disinterest, the Baron did love his grandson and was pleased he was excelling in his chosen field.

The grandson noticed Vivienne when she smiled. "Grandfather! Who is this lovely maiden?"

The Baron looked at Vivienne. "Gregory, this is my apprentice, Vivienne. She is stepsister to the Princess Elladora." He looked at his grandson critically. "Treat her with the utmost respect, Gregory," he said, a stern edge to his voice.

It was touching that the Baron held her in such high regard, and she smiled warmly at him before looking back at Gregory, who had taken on a playfully wounded appearance. "Of course she is to be respected! Sonnets and villanelles are difficult to master."

"Not poetry," she and the Baron said in unison, groaning. "They recite too much of it at court," Vivienne complained.

"I'll remember that," Gregory said with a smile as he approached, nodding at her before moving to look at the Baron's painting. "Not your greatest work, Grandfather. Teaching exercise?"

"Of a sort," the Baron hedged. "Too bad you wouldn't learn any of my skills."

"I learned to appreciate fine art and technique," he replied easily, smiling. This was apparently an old argument. "But I haven't the patience to develop such a thing. I'm glad you've found an apprentice at last." He turned that smile to Vivienne, and her stomach did flip flops. "Perhaps we shall speak again."

The Baron heaved a long suffering sigh after Gregory left. "Well. I suppose you could say the boy is handsome. Everyone else does."

"He takes after you, Baron," Vivienne replied with a slight smile. "Of course he's handsome. The important part is that he has a kind heart."

Nonplused, the Baron looked at her. "Oh?"

"He shares his accomplishments with you, one of those he loves dearly. He understands your love for art, even if he doesn't share it. He's genuinely happy for your happiness. I've lived with angry, bitter people my entire life. He's not one of them."

Looking at her thoughtfully now, the Baron nodded. "Perhaps you are right, Vivienne. Now, given that this really _isn't_ my best work, how do you suggest altering it to make it better?"

Vivienne lost herself in discussing the painting's merits and flaws, forgetting about the Baron's calculating look until a few weeks later, when Elladora asked how well she liked Sir Gregory. "I've met him a few times. A nice young knight, very courteous."

"Baron Castellis thinks it might be a good match for you," Ellanora told her. "I think so, too."

Sputtering, Vivienne looked at her stepsister in shock. "What?"

"I'd like it if you were happy, too."

"I am! I'm painting, I'm here and away from Genevieve and my mother…"

Ellanora pulled one of Vivienne's hands into hers, then pressed it to her still-flat stomach. "You need someone to share this life with, have children…"

The implication sank in, and Vivienne squealed with happiness for Ellanora. Then she realized what Ellanora wanted for her. "I hardly know Gregory that way."

"You will over time."

"Oh, Ella, you're such a romantic…"

"If you need a fairy godmother's input…"

They both laughed; Ellanora's fairy godmother remained in her childhood home, anchored to the painting of her mother. The godmother would love to have Vivienne married off and breeding. Not that she was opposed to the idea, she just never thought it would apply to her.

"I'll think about it," Vivienne said, refusing to give a firm answer. This would encourage Ellanora enough already, and get Gregory to start courting.

Of course he started courting her in earnest, and of course he was very gracious when she was reluctant. His suit was the perfect fodder for court poets, and there were suddenly more requests for portraits. It kept the Baron busy and gave her ample opportunity to train, so she tuned out the curious stares the nobility sent her way. Gregory really could be charming, and was never obnoxious in his suit. The Baron's only comment about the match was an understated "I would like to call you granddaughter" or "He is a good man, and ours is a good family." She knew that, but wasn't so certain why they would want _her_ family. Elladora would provide a dowry, but there was no erasing the stain of her mother's betrayal.

"I'm not marrying _her,"_ Gregory told her when she brought it up. "I want to marry _you."_

"But why?"

"Grandfather likes you, and he so rarely likes anyone," Gregory said with a laugh. "Anyone he likes is a worthy match, with a good mind and warm heart." He leaned in to whisper. "Your beauty helps. I dream of you at night, Vivienne. I long for a wedding day… and night."

She blushed scarlet, not out of shame but shared desire. "Well… Perhaps we could discuss such a thing."

Before the planned wedding, Vivienne snuck into the house she had lived in for years, heading directly to the attic. "I think these portraits should be in the palace. They're Ellanora's parents. And her godmother should see her and the children born to her."

As she hoped, the fairy godmother appeared. "Children?"

"Oh, yes, Ella's huge. They won't let her leave the palace alone, so she couldn't come back to tell you." Vivienne smiled at the dreamy look on the godmother's face. "I think it will be a wonderful surprise for you to be there. I'd move the portraits if I could…"

The fairy smiled and grasped Vivienne's hand. "Just think of where they should be."

"The Grand Gallery," she replied promptly. "That's where all the family portraits are."

In the blink of an eye they were there. The fairy laughed at Vivienne's expression. "Someone just had to want us moved badly enough. And Ella, though I love her dearly, just isn't very bright."

"No, I suppose not," Vivienne agreed. Ellanora could override her ladies in waiting, after all. Or she could have ordered the paintings brought to the palace. "Well, at least you'll be here for the birth and my wedding."

"Wedding?! Tell me all about it!" the fairy cried, delighted.

She asked all sorts of questions Vivienne wished her mother would ask. After talking a while, she realized she had found her own family. Even if Genevieve and her mother never stopped being angry, Vivienne didn't have to endure it, didn't have to accept it as her only lot in life. She had something better now, and she would make sure never to lose it.

This was going to be _her_ happily ever after.

The End


End file.
